In the darkness, he has found no light
by ByEnchantingHuman
Summary: Sherlock Holmes has got a secret, something that is becoming more and more impossible to hide. Especially since he joined Molly Hooper at her flat.Dark! Rated M for later chapters. Please reveiw!
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfiction, I hope you enjoy it. **

**Firstly, It has got a tiny bit of show content, from the series 2 finale. Just a spoiler warning. **

**Disclaimer- No copyright infringement intended. All the characters belong to Steven Moffet and Mark Gatiss. But for the moment they are my puppets ;) **

'Hmm, interesting. I've been stabbed, hung, and lost my head, but I've never been shot before. It kinda itches a little'- Vampire in Brooklyn

He opened his eyes, and darkness greeted him, he panicked but only for a second, deducing his exact position. St Barts morgue. Third cooling tank from the right.

He was paralysed. His body feeling like a weight was pressed against his chest. He lifted his head only to hit the roof of the box he was in. He felt his neck stiffen, then buckle, the pain almost unbearable, as the bones constricted and repaired themselves. All he had to do was wait. He took note of the injuries presented to him. Cracked skull, neck broken in three places, and a fractured wrist. An hour tops. Not bad, for someone who fell from a building less than 12 hours ago.

The cold was intense but he hardly felt it. Only remembering the temperature when he noticed the wisps of air, float from his mouth. The darkness was daunting yet comforting, he was used the these inclosed spaces, they had grown to be second nature to him. He had regained his eyesight long ago, and risking a delay in the healing of his wrist took a quick glance at his watch. 02:46. He sighed, impatient as usual.

03:17 the commotion outside of the coffin, had ceased about 15 minutes ago, the morgue attendant had gone. He was eager to escape the confines of the cooling chamber. His long legs, aching. _Curse my tallness. _He kicked open the hatch at his feet, with little effort. Lowering himself out he smiled. Jumping in glee, he'd done it; he'd faked his own death. _Well I never really doubted myself. _He set off through the corridors, recognising cameras, within an instant. Perfectly dodging them.

Soon he was at the lab's main reception. Reaching into the plastic bag, labelled 'lost and found', he pulled out what he thought would fit him, a purple flowered t-shirt, shorts, which even he had to admit were a bit too snug ,and some quite well tailored shoes. He could hardly go walking through the streets in the nude._ Plus I don't think anyone would miss these clothes. _He smirked, amused. He sighed exasperated, how he longed for his navy blue coat and scarf, he was lost without them. They made him who he was, they gave him a menacing presence. He chuckled, _he hid it so well, and yet people still shivered when he walked into the_ room. Maybe he gave people like Sgt Donovan less credit than they deserved. They could see him for what he was.

He searched through the morgue, boredom cornering on the edges of his mind. He was being nosey. He finally came to Molly Hooper's desk, he was reluctant to go through it at first, knowing what he would find, a picture of furry grey kitten, presumably Toby, a dozen letters from an over-bearing mother, a miniscule amount of makeup, to which he recognised undeniably as the lipstick Molly had worn not too long ago, and piles of paperwork. He was right. _Am I ever wrong? _Tissues littered the desk top_, _along with a tiny compact mirror, that she was obviously trying to mop up her tears with. _Crying over me? _Shock clearly displayed on his face. After all that i have said to her?

Guilt washed through him, well he thought it was guilt, having never experienced the feeling before. His friends, would they ever trust him again, after all the heartbreak he'd caused them, he stopped. 'John'. Would he ever see HIM again, any of them again? Not anytime soon, anyway. He had lied to them all from the moment he met them. He sighed, repeating his mantra. 'They must never know'. He scoffed the thought forgotten in an instant. Looking into the compact mirror, he gasped. His refelction was sullen, the shadows under his eyes appearing very prominent. His black curls hung limply by his cheeks, having lost its charming shine, his eyes dark. His cupid bow lips, were parted, but dry. Dry. Oh very dry. His stomach suddenly growled in fury. He was parched, his throat suddenly alight with heat.

_I need to feed. _

His pupils dilated at the thought, the whole of his eyes becoming black. He strode towards the door. He would be back later, with a body to fill the container he left occupied. He gripped the door handle…

'I'll be back with my replacement corpse' he growled as if the room could hear. He opened his mouth, into a large toothy grin, sharp fangs protruding downwards, fully extended. His whole essence oozing blood lust...

Moriarty's men didn't know what was prowling its way towards them.

_Let the investigation begin._


	2. Chapter 2

"I drank his blood, he is mine!" -Vampire Princess Miyu

**River of blood flowing over factory floor**

**Story by Kitty Reily **

**Last night after a number of disturbances were reported from nearby neighbours, police were called to the abandoned warehouse, on the coast of Addlestone. The disused sweet factory has now been rendered inaccessible, by the Scotland Yard police force still searching through the buildings wreckage. Sources say 'it was a murder most fowl, the factory floor covered with blood and innards'. So far no bodies have been found. It has also been confirmed this was also the location of a previous crime, 4 weeks earlier. Where police consulted with deceased consulting detective Sherlock Holmes, 35…**

_Blah blah blah. _Sighing he closed the paper, seemingly disinterested.

Mycroft entered the over-sized office, guarded by the heaviest of security. Sitting down at his desk, he stiffened. _Something's wrong._ He straightened his suit jacket, as he stood again. Realization dawning on him. He pulled out of the bureau a bottle of scotch whiskey.

'Hello brother' He stated simply, looking down at the glass of liquor in his hands. He waited. But no reply came. 'Sherlock, please don't pretend that you can fool me' _Oh why does he insist on playing these childish games?_

'I could if I tried' the harsh voice floated from the darkened corner. He sighed. Masking the look of pure relief on his face. Even he for a moment after Sherlock's death had considered the unlikely possibility of him being truly gone.

'Your handy work I see, up to your old tricks again?' Nodding towards the paper, gulping down his disgust, through his whiskey.

'Just the assassins that tried to kill my _friends'_ choking on the last word. _Wait, Sherlock had friends? _'I can see this displeases you' He hadn't realised his scowl was still prominent on his face.

'Yes, I used to be concerned for your well-being, but perhaps it's the public that I have to protect, from you' Fighting to keep his voice level, but still over emphasized the last two words. He knew the subject was a delicate one, so he didn't pursue it.

They had had this conversation before many years ago, and he didn't wish to repeat it. It repulsed him the thought of his brother being so inhuman. Others had described him that way many times, but it didn't become quite so literal until the 6th April 2004. The day he'd changed.

'I have come to ask you a favour' he scoffed, knowing that Sherlock never came to him for favours; he flushed away his anxiousness with another drag of whiskey.

'You want me to make the case go away?' referring back to the newspaper.

'Yes eventually, however first, I would like some clothes' Sherlock never 'asked' he always ordered. _Why clothes? _The answer came to him almost immediately, as Sherlock stepped out of the shadows into the morning light.

He grimaced at the sight, wanting to close the door on it. Sherlock stood his whole body covered in stale blood; his hair mattered to his head, completely sodden. His flowered shirt, however distasteful was ripped open, probably from a struggle that was lost. Only his cold blue eyes were noticeable through the curtain of red. His hands looked mutilated, intestine and kidney clogging up his fingernails.

He shifted on his feet, taken aback by this horror. He knew Sherlock could smell the perspiration build on his body. He nodded, then turned around to his desk, fumbling with numbers on speed dial. A moment later the clothes arrived, something he knew Sherlock would like.

'Get a shower too will you?' He demanded. In a flash Sherlock was gone, promising to return.

_04:32am Mycroft had awoken to the fierce knocking on his flat door. At first it seemed fit, just to ignore it. But it continued. Louder and more forceful. Then he heard a cry from the hallway. Sherlock. _

'_Mycroft, I need you!' he seemed frantic from the sound of his voice, he dismissed this knowing Sherlock had never been scared in his life. He slowly approached the door, taking his mobile as an unlikely precaution. _

_He heard an exasperated sigh from the other side, and in a second had wrenched open the door. Sherlock looked terrible, he had been slouched on the door frame, sweat covering his head, though he was thoroughly wrapped in warm clothes and still shivering. He looked dazed, his eyes completely unfocused. How had he even managed to get this far? _

_He walked him to the leather settee, carrying most of his weight._

'_How long have you been like this?' Brotherly concern rough in his voice. _

'_21hours and 22 minutes and 6 seconds' Still had control over his mind then, I see. Never misses a chance to show off. _

_He wrapped him up, Sherlock slipping in and out of consciousness._

_This continued for the next few days, Sherlock seeming almost comma like. After the incident Mycroft had called in a specialized nurse to sit by his bed-side, he not being able to tend to his needs efficiently, when out at work. He did run the government after all, he couldn't take days off without good reason._

_He had returned home late that night, and from the moment he stepped onto the premises and his chauffeur had driven away he could feel it. The weight of death, pressing in the air. The apartment was unlocked, but there was no indentation or shattered wood to signal a break in. He edged onto the landing, hearing movement from the living room. _

_He almost screamed, as his vision cleared, tears of freight. Sherlock was hunched over the broken nurse, suckling at her neck. Sherlock looked up at the new presence in the room. The eyes! Full of fury and __**hunger**__. In an instant he knew, Sherlock wasn't a man no more, but a predator. An animal._

A whistle brought him back to the real world, staring at the tall, dark haired man before him, he observed him. He looked normal, average…human.

'Clean up well don't I?' A chuckle erupted from Sherlock's throat. A rare sight. _But you'd be happy too if you'd just over-indulged yourself on 'your favourite chocolate cake'. _

'So what's going to happen now? Where will you go?'

'I know someone, they promised to give me anything I 'needed''

'Who?' worried for them.

'I'm going to go live with Molly Hooper, she just doesn't know it yet'


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Thank you first for the reviews and the fact that you are adding me as story alerts and favourites.

Seems like you are all loving the 'vampire' Sherlock, It was a bit of a long shot, but glad your all enjoying it Again all characters belong to Mark Gatiss and Steven Moffet.

"You'd better be careful. It could be dangerous to touch somebody's past." -Vampire Princess Miyu

_Molly what are you doing here again? _

It was her sixth time visiting Sherlock's grave within the last three weeks, since that tragic day, she couldn't seem to get away from it. She felt like a masochistic, coming to this spot only to be hurt, again and again.

She clung to a tiny shard of hope that he may be alive, sometimes she came with John and they both cried together. One reassuring the other. She pulled out the tissue from her pocket, preparing for the wave of tears about to befall her.

_You must forget him Molly, you know, people cannot come back from the dead._

These words almost echoed the sound of her mothers, when her cat Mimi had died when she was five. Still she shed a tear for her. She never lets go of anyone.

These last few weeks had been a horrible struggle, she had taken days off work at first, claiming to be in mourning. But being alone, just caused her mind to wonder back to Sherlock. So she returned to work, deciding to bury herself with paperwork, not a good idea. Every room in the hospital reminded her of Sherlock, as he had been there at one time or another. It's like he was chasing her.The morgue. The computer suite. The lab.The latter being the worst. She point blank refused to go in there within the first week. So many emotions, why couldn't she just forget? Delete it from her mind. _Like he used to._ The last moment they had spent together had been in the lab, one of her most confusing but treasured memories.

_Molly huffed as she reached for the door handle, her bath and bed calling her home. _

'_You're wrong you know' she jumped, knowing full well who had spoken. Cursing her over reaction, she almost missed his next sentence. 'You do count' although she heard it perfectly well, she still questioned it. 'You've always counted and I've always trusted you' she waited, he was facing away from her. __**Did he think I was someone else**__? Maybe he was declaring his love for John. __**Just stay quiet Molly**__. Then he turned towards her and continued. 'But you were right, I'm not okay' She stood limply, but then realised he was waiting for a response. She didn't have one, blurting the first thing that popped into her head. _

'_Tell me what's wrong' __**perfectly good sentence Molly, not a single stammer, well done.**_

'_Molly I think I'm going to die' her inner praise stopping abruptly, worry plastering itself on her face. _

'_What do you need?' __**How could this happen? My Sherlock dying**__…_

'_If I wasn't everything that you think I am, everything that I think I am, would you still want to help me?' She wanted to scream 'I'd do anything for you' But those words didn't seem appropriate, so she repeated herself. _

'_What do you need?' Hoping that answered it all. He started towards her, slowly. Her heart began to race, her hormones fluttering within her stomach, but there was something else present too, a silent thought at the back of her head. Fear. _

'_You' she gasped completely taken aback. She stared up at him, meeting his gaze. Her mind suddenly blanked completely. 'You've got to make me a promise Molly' she nodded. Her body working on autopilot. As it usually did when he manipulated her. __**She'd give him anything. **__His eyes so cold, so hypnotic…_

'_If I make it out alive, I will need you. Will you promise to give me anything I need?' She nodded again. 'Say it Molly' _

'_Alright, I…I promise' He smiled, it was a tight, but warm smile, so unlike Sherlock. He kissed her gently on the cheek, as he had done before, almost bringing her to her knees. _

'_Thank you' He whispered. And then he was gone, speeding away, the whole event seeming utterly surreal. _

She had left the grave her mind babble stopping. A silhouette of a man, sat on a bench nearby, he was alone. She smiled at him as she walked closer to him, having to pass close to him, to get out of the gate. He stood causing her alarm. _Shitshitshit. _Being the cautious women she was, she reached for the small bundle in her handbag. _I knew it would save my life, one day. _

As she grazed by him, he reached out. In shock she pressed the rape alarm hidden in her hand. This seemed to cripple him; his hands shot up, covering his ears. _Oh god what have I done._ She rushed towards him, pleading forgiveness.

'Molly…' she paused, only a few centimetres away. _No it can't be. _Her mind couldn't comprehend it. But it was him…his face contorted in pain. His black curly hair, his sharp features, tall lank figure… That's when she fainted.

_Holy cow!_ His head hit the concrete soon after Molly's had. What is that noise? The screeching persisted. Would it ever stop? He had never felt so small. Brought down by an insignificant toy. His hand enclosed around Molly's, yanking it from her grip. He crushed it, throwing the remains over his shoulder. He sat on the floor, breathing quietly drinking in the silence. He rubbed his skull. _Ow._

His eyes strayed to the body sprawled out before him. His expression soon turned to annoyance, then anger. Why would she react in such a way? Couldn't she be strong for a mediocre five minutes? He fought the urge to just dispose of this poor excuse for a human, so weak. He stood and began pacing. Wondering. _What do people normally do with unconscious women? _Well she can't just stay here. He answered his own question. Soon he came to a conclusion. _I shall take her home. People like comfort._

His eyes searched the area; no one had heard the commotion, it being so late. She stirred, but didn't wake. He had a sudden urge to hold her, his mask dropping slightly, but the barrier returning, after he caught a whiff of her scent. Death. The only thing he truly appreciated about Molly, she always carried that lovely smell. He lifted her in his arms, her head nuzzled against his chest. Cradling her like a baby.

He moved swiftly between the graves, only glancing at his own. Soon he was running down the alleyways and streets, full speed, unseen by the naked eye. He caught sight of molly's apartment building. He bounded up the stairs, placing her into a little bundle outside her door. Now we wait…


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**A big shout out to my reviewers, story alterers and story favouriters. You're the ones who keep me writing Thankyou **

First defence against evil - Open your damn eyes. - Reese, Forever Knights

She felt the pounding first. The giant migraine consuming her. _Hangover? _ Her mind clouded, not remembering the events leading to sleep. Her fingers searched the carpet before her, looking for the offending bottle of wine. Instead her palm collided with a leg.

She opened her eyes, the sun's gleam seeming overly bright. While her eyes adjusted, she kept her hand pressed onto the person's knee, hoping they could provide some answers.

She rubbed her eyes again, the image still there, no matter how many times she closed her eyelids. Sherlock, slumped against landing wall. He wasn't wearing his usual attire. _Is that a tie? And braces?_ She took in the sight, knowing that the dream would fade soon.

He blinked, straightening his suit. Molly knew he was uncomfortable under her gaze, but she couldn't move, eyes transfixed on him.

A few moments later, she squealed. Reality dawning on her. She scooted across the floor, faster than Sherlock could move away, and hugged him. Her arms tightened around him, as he tried to move from her grasp. _You're not leaving me again. _Sherlock's arms hung awkwardly at his sides. _Come on hug me. _She pleaded. Knowing it wasn't going to happen, she pulled away.

She chose to ignore the look of pure relief on Sherlock's face. She pursed her lips trying to form a sentence.

'I..I…you're not dead' _Yes point out the obvious Molly. _He scoffed, obviously preferring not to offer a reaction to the statement.'Why aren't you dead?'

'Molly as much as I would love to proceed in humouring you're _simple_ questioning, wouldn't you rather like to continue this conversation elsewhere?' A confused look crossed her face. _What's wrong with where we are? _

'Urm…'

'Inside your flat?' He sighed, overdramatically.

'Yes… inside my flat' She rose off the floor, her balance almost failing her. _Thank god for the landing railing. _She shuffled forward, unlocking the door, her hands shaking. She entered, assuming Sherlock would follow.

As she approached the corridor, leading off to the kitchen and bedroom she turned back. Sherlock hovered outside of the door, a wary look teasing his face.

'Come in…' _Did he even want to come in? Would he take off again? _She was almost sure, he would stalk away, until he took a reluctant step over the threshold.

He strode into the apartment confidence replacing the earlier emotion. He set himself down onto the red faded leather settee. He looked up at her expectantly. _Right, what now? Coffee!_

'Would you like some coffee Sherlock?'

'Black, two sugars' Oh how she had dreamt of hearing those words again. She really didn't have to ask, it was embedded on her memory.

She returned from the small kitchenette, carrying two steaming pink cups of coffee.

Sherlock cleared his throat as the silence continued.

'Well…why are you here? Does John know?' Oh John. The poor man, his limp had grown profusely, often carrying his cane. He looked older, like the death had aged him; still he had met that lovely woman, Mary Morstan…

'No'

'W-why?' She wanted to be angry, but then she remembered the grief she'd gone through, causing her to back down.

'Well…John, Mrs Hudson and Lestrade have all been targeted by Moriarty's men. On the day I was on the roof, he revealed that only if I die, would they be called off. This somehow led to Moriarty killing himself, with a little persuasion from me and me jumping from a building, as you may have guessed. I faked my suicide, and now I am here, as you weren't to be killed by his assassins, 'you didn't count''. He mouthed those words adding air quotations for effect. 'I still haven't tracked down all of Moriarty's men; they seem to have gone into hiding, under new leadership from a man called Sebastian Moran' he hadn't even taken a breath as he run this by Molly. She sat there stunned. Mouth opening and closing in an unattractive O shape.

'How?'

'If you are referring to how I faked my death? I will say only two words…homeless network'

'Oh' She couldn't comprehend it, Sherlock is alive. And assassins, where do they come into all this? She decided. _The more I don't know the better_. She sipped at her coffee satisfied.

Sherlock's eyes fluttered around the room, finally settling on Molly herself. He smirked. _Is he mocking me? _She blushed, she knew from the moment he had entered the room he had learnt all he needed to know about her. She moved quietly in her seat, mind wiped clean.

'So…where are you staying?' _Hotel probably_.

'Molly, I know you're going to be overly excited about the prospect, but let's keep, touching to a minimum okay?' She nodded, misunderstanding him. 'I'm going to stay with you' He said it slowly, obviously anticipating another hug.

'What?' She was again feeling lost. And a little apprehensive, her first thought being _no._

* * *

><p>'What?' <em>What kind of an answer is that? <em>She was against the idea? He examined her expression more closely, she as shifting through responses, trying to let him down easy.

He was perplexed, Molly Hooper…Turning _him _down. Well this definitely shone a new light on the situation; he was expecting another disturbing hug like the one before, now nothing. A little persuading perhaps.

'Molly…I know this is a lot to take in' He gently eased her in, lifting her head to meet his eyes. Running a hand along her jaw line, until it went slack. _I've got her now. _

So it began. First he probed at her mind, reassuring it.

'I can assure you, we will be happy together' Placing positive images, that he conjured from his imagination into hers. Sure they were more like an advert for a furniture company or a food restaurant, but Molly's brain was flexible, easy to bend.

'Happy together' he repeated. He had created the thought and now to make it real. 'Say it Molly'

'Of course you can stay' she said enthusiastically. Manipulation at its best.

'Thank you Molly' she leant into him again, embracing him. _NO NO NO NO! _He wanted to protest, but analysing her fragile form, a simple push could crush her. His stomach lurched, like it had done before. Her scent itched at his nose, a constant awareness. He pushed the hunger back into the darkness, with much protest. Ignoring the tiny part of him wanting it to run wild.

He gulped down the coffee and winced, it had been about 16 minutes since Molly had left the room, figuring he needed his quiet time. It didn't help. _Why did she insist on hugging? Why is human nature to hug? _

He plucked at the cream cushions positioned carefully on the couch. The room as a whole was extremely tidy, everything having its place. All ornaments, books and stuffed toys, however childish, were placed strategically around. It was cluttered yet spacious. He guessed she was very nostalgic from the amount of photos framed upon the walls, _or maybe it was to cover that hideous wall paper, a red and cream flowered print._

A call from the hallway dragged him back into the real world.

'Sherlock…I…we have to sort out sleeping arrangements' He groaned, another petty annoyance. He didn't even sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Well sorry for the long wait, had college to go to, rather be writing but… Reviews will be very much appreciated, either good or bad. Thank you- SH **

"So you're saying...that now, I'm basically...an insecure, neurotic, control freak on crack. "- Caroline Vampire diaries.

She tightened the grip on her scalpel, applying more pressure to the male's chest than needed. The assistant leaned over again, mopping the sweat from her brow. She huffed, hiding her annoyance.

The mobile vibrated within her pocket. Ignoring the persistent sensation, she carried on with the autopsy.

She sighed when another round of buzzing erupted. _He's doing this on purpose. _The phone had been continually ringing all day, she had played this game before. Two weeks ago she had rushed home, frantic with worry, faking an illness. Only to be asked to pass the TV remote from the coffee table.

She leaned over the body, making a slight incision. Unwilling to give in to temptation. The mobile let out more vibrations.

'Autopsy suspended 6:16pm' she threw down her latex gloves, nodding at Sam to cover the body. He was a handsome man around twenty four, short strawberry blonde hair, slightly small and a flawless complexion, she had noticed this, when he had stood too close one day at the lab. He was new, but he had extensive knowledge of the anatomy. _Maybe that's why he was hired. _She noted sarcastically to herself.

She shuffled out of the morgue, body slouched through tiredness. Settling herself at her desk, she looked up at the clock, it seemed to be taunting her. Less than an hour to go. However she wasn't in a rush to be home, that was far from the truth, she wanted this shift to last for an eternity. She didn't want to face him.

_How could one man cause her so much anger? _

'_Molly, this inquiry is of no importance to me' she fiddled absentmindedly with a lock of her hair. _

'_B-but Sherlock, we have to sort of sleeping arrangements' _

'_How trivial' he leant against her bedroom wall, eyes closed. _

'_Come on Sherlock…S-Sherlock? A number of minutes passed in silence, the uncomfortable churning of her stomach never ceasing._

'_This topic of conversation is dull, Molly, if we are to continue, please note that I will not be listening' He spoke mechanically, never looking her way. _

'_Right! You're sleeping on the couch' her voice commanding. __**Well done Molly!**_

_He scoffed. Finally opening his eyes. _

'_You expect me to sleep on the _couch_' She searched his face for any hint of humour but found none. Expressionless. _

'_W-w-well I thought you weren't interested' _she_ challenged him. _

'_I was hoping that you'd make the right decision on my part, but apparently not. Even though I rarely sleep, I refuse to be couch bound. We shall share the double bed' He stated it as a fact. Gesturing around the bedroom._

'_O-okay' her argument lost. With that he stormed from the tiny room, taking all the tension with him. She watched him flit down the hallway, picking up __**her**__ laptop on the way through. She perched on the edge of the bed, still bewildered from their earlier conversation. __**Life with Sherlock travelled fast. **_

She nestled deeper into her chair as she retrieved the pink Nokia from her lab coat. Five messages, she scrolled down the list, drifting through the texts swiftly.

**Mum 12:47pm- **

**Hi Mols, Thought you could come to the flat soon, needing some company from my favourite daughter : ) Love you dearie xxx**

**Sherlock 1:13pm- **

**Molly I am in need of your assistance, come when convenient –SH **

**Sherlock 3:42pm- **

**Molly, hurry home, my patience is wearing thin- SH **

**Sherlock 4:56pm- **

**This thing you call 'silent treatment' is becoming dull. Respond. –SH **

**Sherlock 6:06pm- **

**Molly, stop sulking. –SH **

She cringed at the last text knowing his temper was flaring. Deducing this, she sighed. After a final wash down, and hand scrubbing. She left the morgue. Early again.

A cold chill bit at her cheeks, turning them scarlet. She pulled her coat tightly around her bodice. As a sound sprouted from her pocket.

**Sherlock 6:36pm- **

**That wasn't so hard was it? –SH **

_How did he?____Oh never mind. _Usually she would have been impressed with his antics. But today her mood rendered his actions unacceptable.

He lay facing the TV screen, shouting and cursing. He had concluded after a thorough search of Molly's apartment, that this was the only reasonably exciting thing available to him.

He had called it research, but she had called it snooping.

'I guess we have about 13 minutes before she comes in' He stated this out loud to Toby. He eyed the cat, which was softy licking its paw. It turned and hissed, when it caught him staring.

'You know, I don't like you either' Most animals hated him, and in return he loathed them, uninteresting, un-usefulrodents. _Pets?_ A household animal, kept for companionship or enjoyment. Obviously that definition was wrong.

Humans and their sentimental ways.

Toby sat evilly squinting at him.

'What a waste of space, if you didn't taste so utterly revolting, you wouldn't be wondering around here now, carrying on with your mundane life' He smirked at the cat. _That showed him._

'Arguing with the cat again are we?' He half turned. _How had I not heard her?_

'We? Molly, I was arguing with the cat, you were not' He fell back into the arm chair. He could hear her mumbling from the inside of the kitchen.

'Such foul language Molly' he whispered, disappointed.

'Well Sherlock, I have dropped my work, _for you_, so what do you need?' She stood in the open doorway, he could smell her presence behind him.

'Hmmm' He silently contemplated dragging out her annoyance.

'hmm? Is that all?' Her voice was choked with fury.

'Well I was conducting an experiment to see how long it takes for an healthy human to travel from one place to another, and how it differs when one is in a state of heightened emotions'

She swooped around to the front of the chair. Grabbing his wrist in the process. He noticed her body shiver at the contact, the coolness of his skin, almost removing her hand.

'I…I Sherlock, do you want me to lose my job? Because if I keep blowing it off, it will happen' she was trying incredibly hard to be civil, if he wasn't the world's greatest and only consulting detective, he would have actually believed she was sincere.

'Molly, I've seen better acting on Eastenders, just come out with it' Soon he would regret he had said that.

'Sherlock, you get me so frustrated!' She practically shouted into his ear. Causing him to back off, further into the chair. 'You are messy, nosey and out of control…I warn you not to leave the flat, but yet you do every night. I look in the fridge and find eyes, finger…head!' She started to tick them off on her fingers, casually. 'You call me home from work, for your 'little experiments'…you flood my bathroom, you dismantle my sink, threaten poor Toby…The list goes on!' He was bewildered, he knew he could be unmanageable, he had been told so by John, but Molly never.

'Sherlock? Are you listening to me?' She sounded out of breath, exasperated. _She wants a response? _This had been the first time since, a very young age, that he remembered being speechless.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the flying object hurtling its way towards him. Then colliding with his face. It didn't hurt, but the thought of it made him gasp in surprise. Soothing his cheekbone with his hand. _She slapped me. _

Another surprise. He sat stunned. Molly Hooper the pathologist was capable of being less transparent than he thought.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

**Well here I am again with another update, thank you to my previous reviewers; your kind words encourage me to write more. Please review, they are needed **

'We kept to ourselves, pondering the mystery of each other' -Louis-Interview with A Vampire

They sat both completely stunned for a moment. Neither knowing what to say to the other.

Molly was the first one to speak, her words coming thick and fast from her mouth. Jumbling together to form one long line of nonsense.

'Oh my god, Sherlock f-forgive me, sorry. I don't know what came over me.' Her voice panicked.

She stood back from him, only just noticing the close proximity of their bodies. Her hand felt cool to touch, as she traced her finger along the palm. 'I'll get you an ice pack' She flitted towards the kitchen, digging into the deep freezer, for a packet of frozen peas or carrots.

_Why am I doing this?_ His sharp bone structure caused more damage to her hand, than she did to him. Not even a flush of red, just the same pale tone.

She headed out of the tiled room, stumbling through scenarios and excuses. Hoping one may get her through this situation unscathed. _Well at least with her already low self-esteem untainted. _

He observed her approach, glaring, his cold blue eyes, completely focused. Fear consumed her, adrenaline pumped itself into her bloodstream, in case a chase ensued.

'Sherlock?' She approached him, hesitantly.

'Molly' He stated this outright, neither a sentence nor question.

'Yes?' She clutched the frozen peas to her chest.

'Tense?' She did a double take. _Sherlock interested in her feelings_? Impossible.

'Why would I be?' She wanted to appear strong, but the words just sounded deflated.

'Normal humans, when faced with a confrontation, either mental or physical, can experience a range of emotions-'

She cut him off, not wanting to hear his scientific diagnostics, with a gentle rising of her hand.

'Let me just say I am sorry' He nodded in accordance. She cleared her throat the situation becoming increasingly uncomfortable. She shuffled uneasily in her place, still staring.

'Oh and I'm sorry too, I didn't realise the amount of distress I had been causing you' He spoke as if they were having an ordinary conversation, not knowing the relief it caused her, hearing those words.

She almost hyperventilated, wishing for a chair to suddenly sprout from nothingness and catch her fall. Her mind continued to over excite. _A real apology. _Almost unheard of when concerning Sherlock.

She straightened, gaining some composure.

'Thank you, and I brought you this' She motioned towards the small 'melting' baggy of petit pois.

He scoffed at the peace offering. 'Molly, your strength is minimal. Your small arm, actually your fragile frame. Could never hurt me. Don't fool yourself' His voice was gruff, complete with annoyance.

'I-I just thought…You always say such mean things. always' Her words caught slightly in her throat. An old scar, reopening. Her earlier sense of happiness slowly dispersing.

He recalled that night, with perfect clarity. A thought itched at the edges of his mind. A persistent tingling in the pit of his stomach. Guilt? _Oh feelings, why must you continue in confusing me?_

Her eyes watered, glazed with tears. He silently fought the urge to comfort her. A wary hand, gently circling her shoulder. His touch was awkward and misplaced.

He met her eyes, them looking more questioning than sad now. Obviously in a last attempt at being helpful, Molly thrust the bag onto his lap.

He struggled to pick up the packet, the inner battle still raging. Placing it to his stone-like face he muttered, through gritted teeth.

'Who knew vegetables could be so handy?' He was lying of course, the bag making no impact on the none-existent inflammation.

'Well I am a doctor' She chuckled, cheerily. Only a few sniffles, remaining.

She beamed at him, turning towards the hallway. His lips curved up into a tight smile, happy with this achievement. He felt caring, light-hearted. _Disgusted_.

_Ergh! I need a drink_. Darkness coated his eyes.With that he took to the stairs, halting to gather his scarf and coat. Hating this emotion lark. Hopefully killing something will make him feel better. 

**Sorry for this short chapter update, just thought this would be enough. Let me know what you think? Thanks **


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

**I understand that the last chapter was a short one, only wetting your appetite, so here I am again, another chapter for you to hopefully enjoy. Thanks for the reviews by the way, they are much appreciated. **

"If people don't wish to be eaten then they shouldn't taste so nice"  
>— Amy Mah<p>

He turned abruptly into another dark alleyway, his blackened eyes searching, observing. He had overturned most of the backstreets, surrounding Molly's house. No such luck.

His hands shook in uncontrollable frustration. _Need to clear my head._ Cursing he continued running, the need growing considerably with every passing moment. _Come on…there must be one somewhere? _

He growled, a low moan, rumbling throughout his body. He radiated anger, denting a nearby skip, with his fist. _There must be SOME immoral filth roaming the streets. _The criminal class, Sherlock's favourite label.

Alcohol. The source of all violence. He smirked, and sniffed again, teasing his senses. The scent wafted through the confide alleyway. He shrugged off his long coat and blazer, aiming to protect them from the blood stains that would inevitably follow.

The men fell onto the concrete floor, clawing and tearing at each other. Neither noticing the monstrous presence watching the laughable scene. One threw a punch towards the other, barely grazing the males shoulder. _How humorous, If only they knew their fate. _He decided it was time for a little fun.

'Hello boys' both of the men turned, eyes widening, and then fading into fury.

'Piss-s off' one spat at him, slurring profusely.

'I detest bad language' He warned, enjoying the game.

'We're in the middle of something…' the other male chimed in, clearly confused, and innocent in this kafuffle.

'Let me sort out this little problem for you…' He turned towards the intoxicated man.

'Alcohol makes people do strange things, for example fighting about domestic problems in a darkened alleyway. Please. He didn't touch your wife; the alcohol in your system has merely impaired your senses, both physically and mentally, judging by your delayed responses. However, it's also clearly obvious, that you're insecure; you have trust issues, most likely because you're not fully committed into your relationship, it's not her. It's you.' He spoke with no doubt in his mind.

The drunken man's face contorted with fury, he lowered his hands from his opponent's lapel, facing his new competition. Sherlock.

Sherlock nodded towards the other man 'Run along, your no longer needed' he made shooing motion. He scuttled out of the alleyway, fast, sensing the tension rise suddenly.

The man approached him, drearily with a raised fist, coming close. _Too close. _

He slowly reached out, dodging the blow, and broke the man's neck with one slight twitch of his wrist. _Too drunk to offer a decent struggle I see. _

He dragged the slumped body towards the shadows. He rolled up his shirt sleeves, eagerness overpowering him. In anticipation he leapt upon him, sinking his now defined fangs deep into his jugular. The blood scorched his mouth. Lush. Bliss. The warm fluid, filling his empty veins. He fed greedily, savouring its taste. _Nothing can compare. _

He licked his lips, appreciating every last drop. He felt healthier, rejuvenated. Without blood his _transportation_ (his body) would start to deteriorate. He had noticed his extremely pale complexion of late. And the drowsiness, causing him to sleep soundly through the night.

Lying on the concrete floor, now damp with innards, his icy blue eyes drifted to the sky. Stars littered the blank canvas. He recalled a short conversation with Dr John Watson, a year ago. Since the incident, this would be the first time he had thought about John, other than in passing moments.

Truth be told he missed John, maybe that's the reason for his unkind behaviour towards Molly, she was a poor substitute. _She would never replace him. Ever. _

_But she had come the closest. _He shook his head in confusion. Standing to grasp the limp frame firmly, wanting to make quick work of the disposing of him. Hoisting his dinner, over his shoulders, he set off.

When people usually tried to gain an emotional reaction from him. They were normally greeted to a hard stare or a cold shoulder. _Had I really experienced guilt? _Sighing he tried to control his flitting thoughts of nostalgia, and keep them at bay.

Ditching the sagging bundle, which he predicted would decompose within the next few weeks, due to _his_ influence. He made a quick getaway, stumbling upon his hidden coat and blazer. He headed _home. _

* * *

><p>The compact apartment was in complete darkness when he returned, but had expected nothing more. He noticed the haze of light emanating from the master bedroom. <em>Molly fell asleep reading '<em>_Outlander'_ _again, I suspect. _

Creeping quietly and gracefully he entered the bathroom; he reluctantly reached for the light switch. Brightness overwhelmed him, causing an instant migraine, ruffling fingers through his curls. Wincing he quickly undressed and hopped into the peach shower cubical. He stood stone-like watching the intricate swirling pattern of red vanish down the drain. The suffocating steam of heat having little effect on his cold body.

After dressing in his cheap/dull blue PJ's he entered the bedroom, feeling refreshed. Molly was slouching upright in the double bed, with a book placed sloppily on her lap, her head lolled to one side. Her breathing gently. _That must be uncomfortable_ he noted. Awkwardly he lifted her body steadily downwards, nudging the romantic novel onto the bedside table. Delicately removing the stray strands of hair coating her face. She shivered automatically under his icy touch. He then carefully tucked her into the duvet. Him joining her soon after.

**Hope you enjoy this update, I know there isn't much communication between Molly and Sherlock, but I thought I needed to get Sherlock's confused emotions across, before anything else can happen Plus please review, and maybe drop off a few of your own ideas, on what you want to happen. Thankyou x **

**Outlander by ****Diana Gabaldon**


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8-

**Just a reminder that I don't own Sherlock. **

"He stopped biting me, after I started biting back."-Aetobatus

light from the offending alarm clock illuminated the bedroom. It's resounding noise, wrenching her from her sleep. For the past minute, she had buried herself in her pillow, praying that the contraption would cease. _No such luck._

Surrendering, she reached out and gently snoozed the alarm clock. Pushing back the duvet, knowing if she stayed a moment longer, getting out of bed will become an almost impossible task.

_It's a new day. _She reminded herself positively. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she didn't notice the indentation of weight from the other side of the mattress.

'Are you going to sit there all day, or are you going to start and do something productive?' She recognised the harsh tone. _He'd never shared my bed. _Contradictory to their agreement, where he would sleep in the double bed with her, he'd never actually done so. The only time she'd ever seen him sleep, was when he passed out on the kitchen table.

'You're in my bed' She didn't know what to say, sticking to a simple observation.

'Yes I am' He spoke monotony, obviously humouring her. _Soothing breaths Molly. _Her mind shifted to last night's events. Lingering on the slap she had given him. Why had she apologized? This was definite proof that Sherlock Holmes would never change.

'Why?' She stared intently at the wall in front of her.

'People sleep in beds, do they not?' He stated this outright.

'But you hardly sleep, as you've said before.'

'True, but who said I was sleeping' amusement was thick in his voice.

She turned towards him, as she rose, into a standing position. A red flush consumed her face. _Not sleeping? Watching her sleep? He had hinted at it. _Cursing her stupidity at her last thought, she tried to rein in her embarrassment.

He looked _beautiful, as usual. _Not ruffled by the shuffling of sleep. His eyes were piercing, bright, yet cold, but wide and awake. He was sat straight against the headboard, smiling. _Smiling? More like smirking. _

Her corners of her lips turned up, into a huge grin. _If he's happy I'm happy. _She decided.

'You look smiley?' Not thinking before the words escaped. His smirk faltered. Becoming a tight, unreadable line.

His eyes shone as they glazed over. She took this as a subtle hint to leave. Rushing from the bedroom, she started on breakfast.

Sherlock clambered through his mind palace. Wondering aimlessly. He came swiftly to a pink door, looking rather odd in the gold plated hallway. His eyes shifted towards the lettering carved intricately into the wood. _Molly Hooper. _

He turned the knob, and entered greeted by a small tabby, Toby. Meowing softy, he eyed his enemy fiercely, then turned his attention elsewhere. The room was purple, an exact duplicate of the wallpaper found in her kitchen. Pieces of furniture littered the space before him. The faded leather red settee, cream foot stool (aka Toby's perch), her peach shower and bath set.

The room smelt revoltingly, and not surprisingly of red wine, with a hint of lavender bath soap. He sniffed again waiting for the more relaxing smell of death, which always lingered on Molly's persona.

Sitting awkwardly in the chair opposite the 42' flat screen TV, he could finally achieve what he came here to do. He watched as images flitted across the screen, fast and un-pausing. His memories, cruising by, as if he was watching a pre-recoded DVD.

'Why?' She questioned. She had her back turned away from him, making her almost impossible to read.

'People sleep in beds, do they not?' He mocked her lame response.

'But you hardly sleep, as you've said before.' _Wow, she noticed something at least. _

'True, but who said I was sleeping' He decided to have a little fun with her, knowing that what would surly follow would be embarrassment, nervousness and the luxurious trail of blood raising towards her face.

As he predicted, she turned around and flushed, her cheeks inflaming with heat. His accurate deductions amused him; he took happiness in the fact that he could get her worked up so easily. A smile played at his lips. _What kind of experiment is this? I must be bored._

Her face broke out into a broad grin, he felt like recoiling, but his body betrayed him, only smiling brighter. Her smile. If he removed the cow print PJ's, and disgruntled hair. He may have considered her to be pretty. _Where are these thoughts coming from?_

'You look smiley' His smile dropped instantaneously. His better side winning over the other. Never had he ever been described as _smiley_. Annoyance quenched out the thoughts of Molly.

He sat studying the clip again and again. Disturbed and disgusted by his actions. Standing up, he ran for the door wanting to leave this taunting place behind. Slamming the scarlet door with no intention of returning.

Dr Samuel Patterson. Molly pursed her lips expectantly as he loomed over her desk. She knew he had something he wished to discuss with her. But her patience was wearing thin. She understood now why people disliked her stuttering.

For 5 minutes she had been seated in the same position, him awkwardly making idle chit chat.

'Sam, have you got something you need to say, I have a lot of work to be getting along with?' gesturing to the stacks of paperwork consuming her desk. She huffed not anticipating his next sentence.

'I was wondering if you'd like to get coffee.' He rushed out the words, his voice breaking slightly. Molly sat dumbfounded; she remembered saying the exact same words to Sherlock not too long ago. How history repeats itself, she noted.

She thought for a moment. Her mind conflicted. Her mind resting eventually on one final point. _Molly this is the perfect way to get over HIM. _The voice of reason she suspected. 

'Yes, it would be my pleasure' Sam smiled, obviously giddy at the prospect. They sorted out the arrangements for their _date _and Sam left the office._ Molly you have a date. _She contemplated doing a celebratory dance, but was cut short by the vibrating of her phone; the fuzzy sensation pulled her back into the real world. How was she going to explain this to Sherlock?

**I know this isn't much of a cliff hanger. How do you think Sherlock will react? Plus ideas please? I want to know what you want to happen. What do you guys want? Reviews are very much appreciated; need to know that I have some readers out there x Thankyouu**


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

**Thankyou for the amazing reviews. Just pointing out that they are deeply appreciated, again thankyou **

They had forgotten the first lesson, that we are to be powerful, beautiful, and without regret - Armand-Interview with A Vampire

Bounding up the apartment building Molly glanced at her watch, begging the taunting handle to slow its pace. _62minutes, to turn from fashion disaster to almost acceptable. _Jumping the last remaining step, her excitement grew. Adrenaline pumping her tired legs onwards towards the door.

Searching hurriedly for the keys, in the black hole on her shoulder, she mentally skimmed through her wardrobe. Putting together the perfect ensemble. She giggled happily. This being her sixth month of being a _Single Pringle. _After Jim had turned out to be a criminal mastermind, she had sworn off men, this being the last straw. _But Sam was worth it. _She crossed her fingers, praying for her run of bad luck to end. She nodded defiantly, shoving the key into the lock in a fumble of fingers and thumbs.

Stepping into the flat, she paused. _He's in the living room. _She hesitantly took a step forward, almost tiptoeing through the hallway. _Avoid!Avoid!Avoid! _The inevitable conversation which was about to ensue, made her want to keep her distance. She had borne the brunt of his cruel words too often.

'Molly' he called from the compact room. _H-how…did he know it was me? It could have been anyone?_

'Y-yes?' I answered. Backing away towards the opening of my bedroom.

'Come here' he demanded, Molly knew she couldn't ignore him any longer, so she trudged, defeated, to the living room.

He was sat bolt upright in the settee, staring at nothing in particular. _At least he had dressed and moved from the bed. _He could be lost for hours in thought, never shifting a muscle.

'What?' she asked, trying to sound dominant, but it just came out deflated.

'Why haven't you answered my texts?' His eyes not leaving the empty space in front of him, but his brow furrowed.

'I haven't had time' she almost cringed visibly at her lame excuse. Truthfully she hadn't had the courage to. Knowing that if he gave his opinion on her date, she would take his word as gospel. _Oh the power he has over me. _

'Don't think for one second, that you can lie to me' He said calmly.

'I am not, it's the truth' this seemed to anger him, his fists clenching, and his knuckles turning white.

'Molly…' His voice was venomous, yet only a whisper. Her heart was beating furiously, almost as though it were to come through her ribcage.

'I…I...?' She stumbled through the words that she could speak, visibly shaking.

He took a deep breath, obviously with the intention of proving her wrong.

'Science shows, when asked a question, a right handed person would look towards the right, showing that they are remembering something or someone. However if a right handed person looked to the left, it tells me that they are constructing an image or excuse within their mind. You did just that.'

She opened her mouth gawping at him, forming an unattractive O-shape. His voice was harsh and clear.

'Well I-'She began.

'Plus the extremely suggestive fact, that your voice has become almost monotone in pitch and that you are trying to hide your face behind a mop of hair'

She shooed her hair over her shoulder , not knowing of her unconscious doings.

'I didn't want to speak to you' she blurted, in anger, her brown eyes glazed with tears. Covering her mouth afterwards, like an electric shock had occurred.

'Why?' He finally turned to face me, his eyes locked in confusion.

'B-because I have a date, and I d-d-didn't want to involve you' She pointed at him accusingly.

'Why? Because I would tell you the truth? That he is not worth your time, that he will be just like the others, who have left you heartbroken. When I make a mistake I learn from it. But you Molly keep heading down the same road, ending up at the same destination. Disappointment!' His voice level rocketed towards the end, but his face was expressionless.

'Thankfully I have never been enticed by sentiment, maybe you should take my example'

'No Sherlock…Just no!' She stated, her mind going blank._ I have nothing to say to him._ With that she bolted from the room. _Why do I let him get to me? _

Leaning against the door, she scrubbed at her eyes. Regretting afterwards the overflow of tears. She sobbed into her palm.

* * *

><p>She slapped on mascara and lipstick, delicately applying. <em>He is not going to ruin my night.<em> Her mousey hair hung loosely, waving innocently over her shoulders.

Already knowing the outfit she had chosen, before even opening the small wardrobe. She pulled on the teal dress. Knowing it would complement her breasts, _No matter how small according to someone, _and hips. She tied up the black lace swiftly, running her hands over the corset styled bodice, then ruffling up the knee length skirt.

She knew it was too formal, for a small meal at an average Italian restaurant. But she needed to feel good tonight. She wanted to be the centre of attention. She wanted to make a lasting impression on Sam.

Slipping on the tan heels, she gently opened the door. She passed through the hallway, making her footsteps heard. Nearing the exit, her escape, she hastened a look back at the opening to her living room. _Maybe if I just…_ She stared longingly at the light source. Finally concluding after a deep thought, that Sherlock Holmes had _disappointed _her_. _

* * *

><p>He could hear her reluctance at the door, before her abrupt exit, a couple of moments later. He crouched forward, placing his head into his hands. Sighing in exasperation. <em>I understand…But why her, why anyone?<em>

Her sobs earlier had tugged at his no-longer beating heart. Blowing away the cobwebs. What he could assume as guilt, stung at his stomach. Her sudden statement that she was going on a date stunned him. Stirring within him a little green monster. His thirst, longing for this man's head on a platter.

He knew what jealousy was, after years of rivalry with his brother, he was greatly accustomed to it. _But why?_ His mind was frantic, unable to hold down an intellectual thought. He had restrained his feelings tightly, why now did they choose to come loose? Her anger, her tears, her resentment. The latter distinguishing his fire.

He had hurt her. All because she had chosen someone else over him.

'I'm sorry' He said miserably to the silent room. He paced around the tight space, wishing for his violin. Suddenly a tickling sensation erupted from his pocket, making him tense. _Molly? _He pulled the mobile from his blazer. He stood in silence, growling internally. This was not what he expected.

**Unknown 7:01pm- **

**You should never encroach upon a vampire's territory. She's yours -M**

* * *

><p><strong>Well guys, I hope that quenched your thirst, sorry for the short delay, college is holding me back ;) What ya think? ReviewReviewReveiw Thanks <strong>


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

**Thank you again for the reviews I have been getting. Fingers crossed that you guys all still truly like this story so far, and I am keeping you interested Enjoy this update.**

"Love doesn't please itself by seeking revenge. Love sacrifices itself for the good of others."  
>— Kerrelyn Sparks (Be Still My Vampire Heart)<p>

Meanwhile…

'_Goodbye John' Then Sherlock fell, heading towards his untimely death. His coat billowing behind him, and limbs flying franticly. Landing ungracefully onto the concrete street, with a painful cracking of bones. _

_He swept for the slumped body, but he wasn't getting any closer, in fact he seemed further away. __**I must help him. **__He begged his legs to move faster. This accomplished nothing, leaving him gasping for air, still stood awkwardly in his starting position. _

_Blood poured silently from the large gash on his head. __**I can save him!**__ He persisted, reaching for the broken corpse, but again he was being tugged backwards. __**I must get to him… **__He pleaded, now sobbing. He was thrust away from the bloodied scene, his best friend's body, slowly dissolving into the horizon. __**I must…**_

John awoke, writhing, plagued with images of Sherlock's face, overcome with the paleness of death. Salted tears stung at his cheeks. He shuddered, folding his arms around his torso. It took him a moment to relate to his surroundings.

Light streamed through the curtained windows, of 221b's living room. Illuminating the space. He was wrapped tightly in a cotton blanket, sweat dampening his rumpled clothes. The TV being the only source of life, it blaring away unnoticed, where he'd neglected to turn it off last night.

He rose from the uncomfortable sitting position he had slept in, clutching his cane, like a crippled old man, and made his way towards the kitchen, soothing his aching neck and back. He rinsed his face free of the tear streaking, rubbing at his red rimmed eyes.

Looking around the tidy kitchen, free of clutter and science equipment, guessing that Sherlock Holmes,_ used _to live here, would be almost impossible. 'It is a completely blank canvas' Mary had hinted, her eyes sparkling with excitement, at taking up this decorative opportunity. If only he could share her enthusiasm.

He had stored all of the detective's belongings in 221c. Mrs Hudson had said she'd owed him a favour.

_I miss him. _He confessed, messaging his temples.

'Hello John' a melodic voice sang from the door way. She waved happily, her blonde curls bounding about her head.

'Mary' He ushered her in, delighted with the distraction from his nostalgia. His early morning nightmares forgotten.

'Well John, what are you doing moping around here? It's a beautiful day' Mary's positivity astounded him, she put up with shenanigans from infants, throughout the day and yet she remained happy.

'I was just making tea, would you like some?' her eyes widened, as she stepped in the flat, gaining now, a full view of him. Her smile faltered and forehead furrowed.

'Are you alright John?' She pressed, giving him a warm smile. Rolling out her arms, in an inviting hug gesture. He approached her, and welcomed her embrace.

'It's nothing, I assure you' Mary didn't look like she believed him, her eyebrow quirked upwards. He rushed to change this dead end subject. 'So, what brings you here?'

'Can't a girl come and see her boyfriend, without a reason?' She leaned into a kiss, her lips brushing his lightly. _Oh so you've come here to __**see **__me. _He deepened the kiss, fingering her blonde hair and his other hand cradling her waist. When she tauntingly pulled away…

'No no no' she said, wagging her fingers naughtily at him. _She is such a tease._ She winked, and mouthed the word 'later'. Sighing in frustration he hobbled over to the chair opposite.

'I have done you a favour' she stated, smiling.

'What?' Confusion obvious in his voice.

'Well, I was chatting to my friend the other day. She mentioned that when she was going through the mourning period, the only thing that ceased the pain was when she was with friends, if only for a few hours' she paused, looking at him expectantly, hoping he was beginning to grasp her plan.

'I go out with Stamford sometimes' He explained, clearly lost.

'John…I've organised you an army reunion' She leapt up, giggling.

'I've never heard of such a thing' He said, unknowing of what to do. _Strangers here in Baker ST?_

When he didn't respond Mary continued.

'I've invited all your close colleagues from the forces, in Afghanistan, well those who are in England'

'Mary…' He warned.

'I have booked a community hall and a caterer' She persisted, still high on party fumes. _A different venue? _She grinned at him. He knew she felt proud of herself, and was reluctant to refuse her.

'Alright' He sighed. _How bad could it be?_ Backtracking on that last sentence almost immediately. _It could be very bad. _

* * *

><p>Sherlock stared intently at the bright screen, his eyes adjusting to the lights intensity almost instantly. Another infuriating comment, displayed itself. Baring his fangs crazily at the mobile. Again he began pacing, cursing frequently. <em>Not now, not her…<em>

**Unknown 7:10pm- **

**A drink wouldn't hurt, would it? Or have you forgotten yourself-M**

* * *

><p>John hurried down the bustling London streets, not knowing his destination. Mary had left soon after the announcement, babbling happily about the work she must do to prepare. He had sat alone for a while, but he couldn't contain himself, desperately needing another distraction, refusing sleep.<p>

Molly Hooper? She was awkwardly stood outside of Angelino's a local Italian restaurant. He was about to approach her, realising he hadn't seen her since the funeral. Wanting to offer again his condolences, he knew how much Sherlock had meant to her. But then he noticed her attire. Stopping abruptly. _How could she move on so quickly? _Ducking cautiously into a nearby Starbucks he watched the scene unfold.

A man soon followed her onto the pavement, gripping her hand and pulling it up for a gentle kiss. _Do I know him?_ He questioned, struggling to put a name to his face. Then he realised. _I'm staring. _Mentally scolding himself, he took off, once again reminding himself, he was not on an investigation with Sherlock anymore, now it was just pure stalking.

**I realise there wasn't much happening in this chapter OR WAS THERE? and definitely not enough Molly and Sherlock. However I am happy that I finally introduced John, thought I'd forgotten him? And who is Sherlock's mystery messenger? Ideas? please review, they will make me even happier and more encouraged to write! thankyous…Next time, How is Molly's date going? **


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

**Sorry for the longer than usual wait (keeping you in suspense) Been suffering with a little writers block. I have been hearing your pleas about more Sherlolly and I promise, it is coming, you know how oblivious Sherlock can be ;) . In the meantime keep reviewing; I am in need of your support **

"I am neither good, nor bad, neither angel nor devil, I am a man, I am a vampire." -Michael Romkey (I, Vampire)

It was a chilled night; Molly openly cursed herself for neglecting to bring her jacket, rubbing her arms frantically, hoping to hide her goose-pimpled flesh. _Maybe I could run back. _Quickly dismissing the idea.

She peered into the bustling crowds of Northumberland ST, combing the pavement nervously.

'Sam' she exclaimed on rejoiced, silently thanking him for giving her this chance.

'Molly, you look beautiful' He praised, gracing her hand with a soft kiss. She blushed, pulling her hand, shyly, out of his grasp. 'Shall we head in, my lady?' Again her face tingled with heat.

They were seated in a window booth, looking outwards towards the busy street. The cramped alcove was lit only by candles, creating a special, unique and secluded atmosphere. A single rose planted simply in the centre of the table. _How romantic._ She swooned, cradling her face happily, fingering the petals.

She was pulled gently from her daze, by clumsy pale fingers entwining limply with hers. She beamed up at Sam from across the booth.

'Sam, this is a really nice restaurant. I didn't even know of its existence until now' she pushed for a conversation, the silence becoming quite uncomfortable.

'Do you want a drink?' He questioned abruptly.

'Sure' she squeaked, noticing the moisture accumulating on his brow. _Nervous? Poor lad. _She understood how the thought of rejection could have that effect. _Sherlock Holmes_. She cringed.

'Bottle of white wine please' he motioned to the waitress. She placed the iced _Pinot Grigio _onto the table without as much as a word.

'Nice service' she laughed, settling some of the tension. He gave her a warm smile, caressing her hand.

'Shall I pour?' Never had she been treated with such politeness. Grinning broadly she nodded. 'I was a bit reluctant to ask you out at first' She swallowed the wine quickly.

'Why?' She knew the reason why men avoided her, she had a tendency to '_Creep' _them out, she had an unusual fondness of working with the dead, and sometimes she preferred them to people. They never truly understood her emotionless side. They always questioned 'How can you do it?' 'How can you remain calm while elbow deep in blood?' She imitated their voices casually in her mind.

'Well I thought you had a boyfriend' He cut off her mind babble, with something equally as confusing. She laughed outright.

'I've been available for a VERY long time' She chuckled heartily, suddenly realising her mistake. _How desperate did that sound? _Gulping at the pale liquid, she continued. 'W-what gave you that idea?' Covering up her dire statement.

'Well you get a lot of texts from someone, and you always smile as you read them' _I smile? _Unaware of her subconscious act.

'Oh it's no one, just friends' she rushed over the words, sighting the bottom of her empty glass. Sam didn't look convinced_, or was it just paranoia?_ 'More wine?' raising her glass.

* * *

><p>She stumbled carelessly onto the sidewalk from the cab, the ground seemingly unstable.<p>

'I can make it up from here' She suggested, her words slurred. She aimed for the door, failing and ending up helplessly in Sam's arms.

'Nope I will escort you up' He pointed skyward, scooping Molly off the ground.

He stumbled wildly up the stairs, falling indelicately in some instances, plucking Molly's keys from her bag with ease. 'Is this your flat?'

'Yes' she stated, leaping to her feet. Grabbing hold of his lapel for support. Molly blanched at the inappropriate position that they found themselves in. Her straddling his hip for balance and clutching his coat desperately.

'Coffee?' She asked, needing an escape.

'I'd be delighted' they turned towards the door, arms linked together. The keys poised to unclasp the lock. When the door was wrenched open. A tall shadowed figure filling the door frame.

'I'll take it from here' the voice beckoned. Pulling tightly on Molly's arm. _Ow! _She protested, trying to free herself from his tight grasp.

'Who are you?' Sam questioned, clearly shocked at this interruption.

'Not your concern, I just request that you leave' His voice was cold and demanding. Molly shivered, concerned about the scene unfolding before her. Sherlock's eyes locked onto Sam's, in some kind of battle glare. _You're not going to push him away. _She could feel Sam's grip slacken considerably.

'Let go of me' she shouted, fighting against him.

'I request that you leave' he repeated. His gaze was fierce.

'Sherlock this is my date and you have no fucking right' she warned, her temper flaring. _Why is Sam not saying anything?_ Her drunken wriggling not loosening his iron grip.

'Go' Sherlock spoke finally. Sam's hands suddenly pulled away from her waist, as he headed for the stairs. _Why is he giving in?_

'N-no…you don't have to leave' Tears streamed from her eyes unattractively. 'I'll call you' She wailed. Before being dragged inside by an impatient Sherlock. _Just wait till I get my hands on him. _

**Oh dear… Trouble in paradise, a little bit angsty, I know but they say 'the darkest hour is just before the dawn' :/ I think Sherlock should be afraid! Very afraid! What happens next? Let me know, what you think? **

**Review review review! I am in need ;) Thankyou x**


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

**Sorry for a long wait, but my life has been pretty hectic lately. Phew! Please read, review, and enjoy! **

"Whoever fights monsters should see to it that in the process he does not become a monster. and when you look into an abyss, the abyss also looks into you." -Nietzche

_Date two. Three days later…_

Sam linked her arm with his, as he chatted aimlessly to himself. Her mind however was elsewhere. Silently berating Sherlock. She still hadn't forgiven him, her grudge running deep. _If he wants to act like a child, then so be it._

She had a strong urge to wave her arms franticly, in exasperation, her annoyance ruling her head. 'The nerve' she complained breathlessly.

* * *

><p>'<em>Sherlock' she cried, fighting out of his tight grip, sobering up. She was being dragged through the hallway, her feet skating over the carpet. 'Sherlock' she screamed, hitting him repeatedly with her unoccupied arm.<em>

_He abruptly released her, upon entering the living room. Not speaking he flung himself onto the settee, positioned stiffly in prayer-like pose Stroking her arm softly where his cold grip had held her, Molly stood in confusion. _

'_Sherlock?' She approached him hesitantly, still ready to run if needed. _

'_Molly' He said, his voice a harsh whisper. _

'_What happe-Why?What?' She stammered uncontrollably, her eyes running again. _

'_Molly' He warned, his tone threatening. Clutching at her arm again, her mind buzzed incoherently. __**Molly, what are you doing? This is your home, YOUR life. He's only human for Christ's sake! **__Realising she had nothing to lose, she burst._

'_Sherlock, that…was… my… fucking date, and unless you give me a good explanation of why that incident occurred…you will have no more help from me' She screamed, her voice breaking only slightly. __**That's right molly!**__ She silently congratulated herself, her inner party faltering when she caught a glimpse of the glare Sherlock was hitting her with. _

_His stare was fierce, and would make any human cower. Molly grimaced, her heart pounding. He had manipulated and frightened others before like this, but Molly refused to back down. Her sense of reason failing. 'I'm warning you Sherlock' Standing straighter. _

'_And I'm warning you Molly' He spat her name, like dirt on his tongue. 'I have my own reasons, you will not push this any further' _

'_B-but Sherlock why?' The atmosphere suddenly changed rapidly, even the room seemed darker, and she knew his patience had finally been cut._

'_Let's start with the obvious shall we, this man was clearly not drunk, although he pretended to be, he was aware of all of his actions, his eye sockets being wide and shifting slightly to take in his surroundings. Also his reflexes and agility were definitely not slurred, seeing as though he got you from a taxi and into the hallway within less than two minutes' He leapt of the seat and began pacing. 'That brings us neatly to my next point, he seems physically fit, but how? If his work hours are anything like yours, I'd question how he seems to stay in such a vigour state. Another thing what was his rush, surly a romantic tumble on the stairwell, would be the perfect end to a date. Don't you? All this simply says his intentions, however decorated were not noble' _

_She stared utterly stricken. __**How dare he? **_

'_Sherlock. You have no right to question his motives, I can bring home any man I liked, I could become a fucking prostitute, and still it would be none of your business' She shunned herself for her poor choice of words, but still stood her ground. _

_Sherlock looked positively fuming, his fists clenched at his sides. He took a step towards her, his stance growing more menacing. _

'_Fine, I was only looking out for you, trying to stop you from becoming just 'another' broken woman, because really you are no use to me upset'__** No use?**_

'_You're always so mean Sherlock, I have a half a mind to throw you out' she threatened, it coming out only a small squeak. _

_He glared down at her, his bottom lip trembling and his brow mattered with sweat. __**He looks ill, how did I not notice this before.**__ For the first time, since she could remember, Sherlock looked less than perfect. His eyes raked over her body, him then slowly licking his lips. This stance scaring Molly more than any of his words. _

'_You wouldn't dare' He hissed. Turning away, he slowly walked towards the landing door. 'Tonight Molly Hooper I have done you a kindness' A resounding slam echoed throughout the flat, as the front door closed. _

_With that Molly collapsed into the settee, her alcoholic state and later adrenaline rush, finally catching her up. She was asleep in seconds. _

* * *

><p>Since then Sherlock hadn't spoken or looked her way, in extreme cases he wasn't even to be seen in the same room as her. <em>Childish. <em>Cursing him again, she turned towards Sam, giving him a slight smile, reassuring him that she was still listening.

But he wasn't talking anymore. They had walked into a cramped alleyway, no light showing a pathway. Panicking she tried to tug Sam backwards, out onto the illuminated street, however he held his place, stood stone-like.

'Sam? What's wrong?' Concern was rough in her voice. _I am a doctor after all, I could help?_ Her mind babble was thrown outwards, when a sharp pain sliced her cheek. She was backhanded across the small space. A figure ran clumsily towards her, an object glinting in his grasp.

He curved the knife along her collar bone, exposing her chest to the cool air.

'I have wanted you since the first time I met you, I came close the other night, but now there is no one in my way' He growled intensely, his breath hot on her neck. He brought the knife down again, this time drawing a crimson line over her shoulder.

**Wow! A cliffhanger…Plus a lot of angst hehe…I feel so mean ;) Next chapter will be from Sherlock's POV. Btw what do you think of their argument, kept in character? I hope so. Please drop off a review on your way out ;) thankyouuu x**


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

**Well, I would like to first thank all my reviewers, story favouriters and story alterers. You have made my day, and now your reward ;) …**

"A vampire lives in a constant state of desire and disgust. His nature often revolts him, but he doesn't have the will to deny his indulgences. There's the killing, but there's also the pleasure, the sensuality, the lust. The sheer ecstasy of it all."-"Forever Knight - Stranger Than Fiction"

Grudgingly he pulled his bulky coat tighter, trying to convince pedestrians, that he was just the same as them, a mortal trying to shield himself from the cold. _The secret to a good disguise is to perfect the minuscule motions. _He lit another cigarette, the flame illuminating his pale physique, bathing in its bitter taste. Needing a stress relief, from this petty venture.

* * *

><p><em>Molly struck, again and again<em>_. Her clumsy blows, not even scratching his exterior. 'Sherlock' another hit. Sherlock's eyes blazed beneath his lids. Condemning this stranger to his grave. __**Oh and I won't have to wait long. **_

_They entered the claustrophobic living room, releasing her arm. Knowing full well she was safe again, now that he had intervened. Relaxing into a familiar position, he fell into thought. _

_He could sense it radiating off the man, as soon as he had touched his mind. Normally a person's thoughts were clouded and foggy, just wisps of air that could be handled and manipulated, whereas HIS were raw and pulsing, flashes of red, stimulating violent emotions, anger and lust. Sherlock was even reluctant at first to enter deeper into his consciousness. __**And they say I'm corrupt? **_

* * *

><p>He shuddered at the memory, he visited it often, he had met murderers and rapists, and they all had felt the same, actually he didn't believe himself any different, if someone had probed his mind. He took another long drag. He thought he had grown accustomed to their dominant thought processes. <em>But their thoughts hadn't been directed at Molly had they?<em> He cursed himself.

'_Sherlock, that…was… my… fucking date, and unless you give me a good explanation of why that incident occurred…you will have no more help from me' Her pitch had grown considerably, shredding his sensitive ear buds._

_He was surprised and slightly proud of her little outburst, no one had ever talked to him like that, promptly coming to the conclusion that he didn't want it to happen again. __**Let's put this kitten back into its cage, shall we? **_

_He plastered an expression of pure hate onto his face, internally flinching when Molly subconsciously shuddered away from him, a slight twinge of guilt faltering him 'I am warning you Sherlock' _

'_And I'm warning you Molly' this had gone far enough. 'I have my own reasons, you will not push this any further' _

'_B-but Sherlock why?' This enraged him further. __**I will make her listen. **__This game she is playing will not have good consequences. _

* * *

><p>On the move again, he kept a steady pace, hiding in the shadows, using the dark to his advantage. His targets walked slowly, lounging in the night, not knowing of their pursuer. The couple hugged at each other for warmth. A sickness rocked his stomach. The feeling could only be described as jealousy, the same sin that had started up his temper the other night.<p>

* * *

><p>'<em>Sherlock. You have no right to question his motives, I can bring home any man I liked, I could become a fucking prostitute, and still it would be none of your business' He almost choked at her choice of words, he would never allow that to happen. <em>

'_Fine, I was only looking out for you, trying to stop you from becoming just 'another' broken woman, because really you are no use to me upset'__He had decided that this conversation was at an end, venom laced his words. She has betrayed me, choosing to take his side instead of his own. _

'_You're always so mean Sherlock, I have a half a mind to throw you out' _

_He stood, unaffected by her words. Her face flushed under his gaze, her eyes wide. She knew she had severed his temper, but something else bubbled heatedly under his skin. Bloodlust. His eyes combed her body, feeling the pulse of her enthusiastically beating heart. His brow furrowed in effort, a part of him longing to succumb to his need. Plaguing his mind with delicious fantasies._

'_You wouldn't dare' He hissed. He turned, needing air. 'Tonight Molly Hooper I have done you a kindness' referring to both his warning about Sam and that he had spared her. He noted a silent warning. __**This act of mercy will never occur again. **_

* * *

><p>The whimper knocked him violently from his flashback; he searched the scene, looking for the two he was following. Another muffled scream. Molly. He approached the alleyway, speed walking.<p>

The smell flushed him out, causing his mind to whiten. Enough blood to cause severe blood loss, he figured. His eyes more accustomed to the dark, shifted over the space. His mind buzzed incoherently at the crimson pool surrounding the two forms ahead of him.

_Two humans. _

_One slumped, Molly, unconscious. No threat. _

_The other encroaching on her. _

_Eliminate him… _

The lunged forward, bludgeoning Sam's nose in one swift movement, throwing him across the alleyway. _I'm going to enjoy this._ Promising him a long drawn death.

**Oh dear! Another angsty chapter, but I really needed to get Sherlock's emotions across. Next week, maybe a bit bloody, but we will also see a bit of Sherlock's caring side, when he takes Molly home ;) (spoilers)**

**Also what do you guys think of Sherlock, he is quite hard to write for I must admit. Do you find him a bit OC like or not? Hmmm please review x**


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

**Well guys, I am so sorry for the lack of updates, but I have been away with work in Malta, so It was impossible to update, again I'm so sorry. But here it is the long awaited chapter 14…**

Most of all, I longed for death. I know that now. I invited it. A release from the pain of living. My invitation was open to anyone. To the whore at my side. To the pimp that followed. But it was a vampire that accepted it. Louis-Interview with A Vampire

Wiping the flush blood from his chin, he smirked. _And I thought tonight would be tedious. _He licked playfully at the remnants. Then he turned to the slumped figure, curled into the corner, remembering his purpose. Instantly forgetting about the corpse before him, he stalked over to the unconscious shaking Molly Hooper.

Her small frame was crumbling and frail. The loss of blood drained the colour from her cheeks. Her pulse barely a whisper. Registering her state might be critical, he cradled her broken body in his arms, carefully tucking her within the folds of his coat. Ignoring the crimson hue still streaming from her wound. He took off.

Approaching her bedroom, he kicked open the door, almost splintering the wood. Laying her onto the bed, after extracting her entwined fingers from the fabric of his coat, with some force, he flitted into the compact kitchen, and then the bathroom, grabbing the necessary utensils.

Sherlock knew he wasn't a doctor, but he had had enough experience when working with the deceased, he wasn't completely ignorant, as some people thought. He fumbled madly with her shirt, eventually resorting to just casually ripping it open, her buttons volleying across the room. Eyeing her torso in a moments distraction. A pink laced bra flared across her chest. Flattering her now exposed breasts, clearing his throat uncomfortably. _Small? No. Just well hidden._

Gently he applied the disinfectant to the cut, applying a soft amount of pressure. The sting from the ointment flung Molly from her unconsciousness. Slamming into Sherlock as she bolted upright, dizzily she tried to gain some composure.

Sherlock hurtled forward as she almost toppled off of the bed.

'Sherlock, what are you doing? I have to get up!' His name slurred lazily on her lips, as she tried to climb up him.

'No Molly, do you remember what happened to you?' tucking her into the duvet, figuring this would be the most appropriate thing to do, as moments ago she was shoving her bosom into his face.

'I-I yes' she stammered, her eyes wide in recognition. She then clutched her shoulder in pain.

'Here take these' gracefully planted two pills into her mouth, and then followed by a glass of water.

'Sherlock, her tried to r-r-rape me' her voice faltered, covering her mouth as a sob erupted. Sherlock was dumbfounded, resorting to a small pat on the back, as more tears spilled from her drooping lids. 'He would have kill-' Another sob.

And there it was the mortality of it all, he had faced pain and despair many times, stared deeply into the barrel of a gun, cascaded off of a building and not felt anything, grief, remorse, _sentiment_. It had been almost a decade since he last felt a weakness such as being frightened.

_Her dark green eyes seeing his potential talent, and ceasing his beating pulse, with one lipstick coated bite… _

He would never be able to relate to Molly, but even though he would never understand her, he felt the urge to protect her. He knew how evil and cruel this world could be, and he would never subject her to that.

Grasping her quaking body, mindless of the state of undress she was in, he pulled her towards him, her head nuzzling into the crook of his neck, the tiny water droplets creating a film over his skin.

'Now Molly, it's alright' He purred, combing his hand through her hair awkwardly, sitting rather rigidly

'S-Sherlock? What did you do? Did you get the police?'

'No molly, I sorted it out' Deciding to stick to the truth as much as possible.

'Oh Sherlock, it was h-horrible, you were right, oh I'm so stupid!' Her crying finally stopping, and turning into violent hiccups. He raised his eyebrows in a moment of smugness, but that soon evaporated. He knew he could end her grief, manipulate her mind into any emotion he wished, but at that moment it didn't seem fair. _She will come out of this stronger. _

'Now Molly, you are having a normal reaction to this type of attack, in fact you're faring better than expected. You. Are. Stronger.' _reassure her._

'Thankyou Sherlock' She whispered softy.

Pulling out of his embrace, her movements sluggish, she slowly slumped into a sleeping position, her pills finally taking affect. Pulling up the duvet, he gently eased her into a comfortable position.

'Goodnight Molly Hooper' crouching down, he placed a delicate kiss on her temple. Gathering up the first aid kit, he left the room, soundlessly.

* * *

><p>Ding! His phone erupted from his coat pocket, visibly cringing he reached over towards the mobile, predicting the senders name without a doubt, wanting to not even read the line of text, but curiosity kills the cat.<p>

**Unknown 04:42am- **

**Bravo! I was highly amused by that blatant show of affection. Why don't you show her what life is like when your never afraid, Sherlock. One bite. Take her, or I will. - M**

* * *

><p><strong>Well I know this was short, and it was so fluffy! Not what you guys were expecting ;) but hey ho. Well next week hopefully another chapter will emerge :D haha. Anyways, I hope Sherlock wasn't too OC, I'm trying to keep him in character but its soo difficult. What do you guys think? Plus next week, More Sherlock and Molly, maybe a lil John. Til then REVIEW! <strong>


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15

**Again I have been redecorating my bedroom, so a little bit late, I'm so sorry. But as promised I am back! Haha. Enjoy, and please drop me a little review on your way out ;) **

"You must excuse me, but I have already dined. And I never drink wine."-Gary Oldman in the film "Bram Stoker's Dracula"

The lights flared, coating the grinding bodies in splashes of colour. The disco in full swing. Swarms of sweaty people crowding together, stealing John's breath, as he was pushed gingerly into the cluster.

'Hello the-' He stopped short, being pulled harshly towards another army buddy.

'Hey-'And another

'Welcom-'And another. Not having time to recall eithers names.

'Glad you could come…'He gasped over the loud music, making wild hello gestures. _Chaos_. _An utter mess. _Staring, in horror at the wash of heads surrounding him.

'Ouch, my bloody toe, you clumsy sod' He swore, a deep frown planted firmly on his face, as an unsuspecting guest crushed his foot, _probably trying to complete some elaborate dance move. _Turning in time, only to see a retreating back.

Shrugging. John ruffled a hand through his hair in frustration, grasping at it in tufts. Scouting the room for his petit girlfriend, his eyes screaming desperation. Catching her gaze, _thankfully_, she merrily made her way over to him, hoping to perform an act of mercy.

Clutching his clammy hand, she tugged him off of the dance floor and towards the empty tables.

'Someone wants to meet you' She sang.

* * *

><p>She had awoken, shaking her head in an effort to abandon the lull of her nightmare ridden sleep. Sam's face haunting her behind her closed lids. She felt drained, wrapping the duvet tighter around her frame, her shoulder barely able to respond. The duvet didn't budge, her arms weak. Tugging at it again, she huffed in annoyance. Realising the blanket was unable to move because of the dead weight sitting atop of it, opposite her.<p>

Wincing, she turned over towards him. He sat, completely oblivious to nuisance he was causing. Sat perfectly still, bolt upright against the headboard. His forehead wrinkled in thought, his hands ideally tapping his phone screen. She sighed. _A moment of peace._

'Sherlock' her voice hesitant, debating whether she should interrupt him. The rapidly increasing pain in her shoulder deciding for her. 'Sherlock' she stated, louder this time. Suddenly his face contorted into one of frustration. She openly prepared herself for the argument, shuffling further into the folds of the duvet.

Twitching, he slowly opened his eyes, his face returning gradually to its serene look.

'Ahh Molly, you're awake' he said smiling brightly, pocketing his phone. _He seems…happy? _She noted, confusion consuming her. Well he isn't bringing up last night, she admitted to herself awkwardly.

'What's happened, anything about last night?' She questioned, her voice sounding hoarse, assuming the worst.

'Oh nothing, I am just ahead of the game Molly' Bounding off of the bed, he danced out of the room, almost skipping._ Where does he get all that energy?_ Ultimately deciding that she would stay in bed all day, burying herself in her sorrows.

He returned fifteen minutes later, with a tray of jam on toast, balanced on his palm. She sat up eagerly, nearly forgetting about her wounds, until she groaned in pain, soothing her collarbone.

'Hey, steady now' He warned, placing the tray onto her lap, wiggling his finger mockingly, shifting back into his newly acquired 'side of the bed', texting hurriedly on his phone. Hungrily she tucked in, relishing the sweet taste.

'Hey, do you want any?' She asked politely, staring intently at the slices of toast left on her plate.

'No' He stated abruptly, not giving the food a second glance.

'Aren't you hungry?' she pressed, lifting the slice up towards him, hoping to lure him in with the smell. Smirking he turned towards her, leaning teasingly into her face.

'I've already ate' He smiled, showing a full set of bright white teeth. Shivering slightly she pulled away. He chuckled darkly, standing abruptly and pouncing towards his coat, hung on the back of the door.

'What ARE you doing?' she exclaimed, uncomfortable regarding his new behaviour.

'I have been invited to a party, Molly' shrugging into his coat. She gasped.

'A party… your supposed to be dead!' slamming the plate of unfinished toast down onto the bedside table.

'I've got a job to do' Fumbling to retrieve something from his pocket. Finally grasping the object, he thrust it before Molly's face. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger. It was tiny, a small contraption, a circular metal disc, shining in the dim light.

'Wha?'

'A microphone, I acquired it from my brother' He cut her off, obviously not having time to listen. ' .careless.' He tatted, acting disappointed.

Opening her mouth to protest again, he shhh'd her, putting his cold finger to her lips. She instantly quietened, her eyes going wide.

'Do shut up Molly, have a little faith in me' He stared intently at her, then back at the microphone hidden now in his closed fist. 'I'll be back later, I promise' his voice bubbling with excitement. Motioning forward he kissed her forehead in a goodbye gesture, and wrapped his arms around her in a fleeting reassuring embrace, before flitting gracefully out of the door, with a slam.

Not expecting this, Molly froze, body unable to respond, her mind reeling, destroying all competent thoughts, still staring embarrassingly at the closed door. _OMG SHERLOCK KISSED ME_,_ well it was only my head but…OMG SHERLOCK KISSED ME!_ Rubbing the sensitive spot on her forehead, relishing his imprint, she blushed.

* * *

><p>Seeing the stranger sat comfortably at the table, he shrugged.<p>

'Mary, I don't think I could face another 'friend' not now' Trying to tug her backwards, but Mary stood her ground, impatiently dragging him forwards.

'Please John' She begged, blinking her eyelashes seductively at him. _Little temptress. _

'Alright, alright' Storming towards the mystery figure, he stopped abruptly as he came face to face with the unlikely guest. Gasping he immediately stood at attention. _Old habits. _Embarrassed, John blushed a little.

'At ease Captain' The man laughed, pulling John into a manly embrace, patting each other lightly on the back.

'Aren't you going to introduce us' Mary inquired, nudging John with her elbow.

'Oh yeah this Mary, is Coronal Sebastian Moran' John gushed, still shocked.

**Review review review! This chapter was more of a filler chapter between Molly and Sherlock, what do you think? I hope I have them portrayed right, I knwo they are moving slow, but that is to be expected. Next week more Sherlock and Molly. And I mean lots of them, open all the doors, for more fluff! See you next week hopefully x**


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16 **

**So so Sorry, It's been too long since I last updated! But life seems to have been getting on top of me, between work, college and driving lessons, I haven't had any spare time. Hopefully this chapter will live up to your expectations :) enjoy my dears! **

"A vampire lives in a constant state of desire and disgust. His nature often revolts him, but he doesn't have the will to deny his indulgences. There's the killing, but there's also the pleasure, the sensuality, the lust. The sheer ecstasy of it all." -Forever Knight - Stranger Than Fiction

He was huddled, silently, on her couch, the laptop perched on his knees. Leaning forward in an uncomfortable looking position, his lips set in a firm line. Not welcoming the cushions enticing embrace, unlike Molly, who watched him contently from her position on the armchair, across the tightly compact room. 

He stared intently at the wooden fire place, his dark eyes shifting occasionally, his thoughts elsewhere. _Visiting his mind palace, no doubt._ Molly concluded, snuggling further into the chair, and returning to her magazine.

Molly had grown used to the sight of Sherlock in this comatose state; he seemed to have been losing himself a lot more frequently, this session of thought had lasted four hours. Molly fumbled about trying to grab his attention, purposefully dropping ornaments and bottles. Soon giving up, with a sigh of frustration.

She guessed it came down to the tight living quarters. In the delusional state of being medicated, she had begged him for a favour.

'Please stay with me, I feel so alone' she cried, her ditsy mind allowing her no dignity, clutching his navy coat in her shaking hands. So Sherlock out of a severe act of awkward kindness had promised to stay with Molly until she could return to work. She blushed embarrassed by the memory.

He had been true to his word. No late night outings. Midnight strolls. Nothing. Two weeks of Sherlock Holmes not able to do as he pleased. She appreciated it deeply, but everyone needed their space. _Thank God I don't have to take that overly strong medication again._ Happily smiling at the thought of her normal routine beginning soon.

Spying over the top of her magazine at the figure on her settee, she pursed her lips in thought, spying for the first time his ghastly appearance. He looked deathly pale, the darkness under his eyes contrasting greatly, his lids barely open. His transparent complexion, only rivalling that of a ghost. His cheekbones had sunken. His cupid bow lips chapped and bleeding, his teeth unconsciously tearing into them. His flare had dimed considerably, his bright spark seeming to have deserted him.

Molly cleared her throat, suddenly panicked. Sherlock's eyes twitched involuntarily. _Rage?_ Hesitant she tried again. Watching carefully as a bead of sweat peeked from his hairline.

"Sherlock?" She whispered, her words barely audible.

"Yes" He croaked, he voice dry and seemingly unused. His eyes never leaving the blank spot on the wall.

"Are you okay?" She asked reluctantly, knowing he would thoroughly deny it.

"Yes, Molly I am perfectly healthy" His voice quivering towards the end.

"Well, you look ill" Motherly concern flooding her voice. She crept off the couch toward the statue-like man. Him stiffening even further as she approached, his fists clenching. Kneeling in front of him, she smoothed his forehead, it looking clammy, feeling for a fever.

He sat unmoving, his mouth slowly forming a cruel scowl. Pulling out of her embrace, he began pacing the length of the room. Having caught his pace, Molly pulled at his arm, yanking him towards her. Him being too weak to protest. "You're ill, now sit!"

"Molly" He choked, pulling her hands from his body "Leave" He threatened. His eyes saddened and pained. However his grasp on Molly's wrist contradicted his statement, he seemingly tugged her closer. Confused Molly tried to pry her hands away.

Suddenly his posture changed, standing straighter, more defined. His desperate expression turning to one of calm. "Don't struggle" He said simply.

"Molly" He said again rubbing soothing circles into her wrist. "Molly, Molly, Molly" He growled, his deep tone, music to Molly's ears. He repeated her name, as if tasting it. Looking down toward their intertwined fingers, Molly flushed.

"Sherlock I-" She started, but her breath was taken from her, as Sherlock started tracing the beating pulse point of her neck. He chuckled darkly, the menacing undertone not registering to Molly.

"So much heat" He drawled "You're so beautiful when you blush" He leaned in nudging her face with his nose sensually. Cupping her bright red cheeks. Closing his eyes as if savouring a fine wine.

Molly desperately wanted to lead him to the bedroom, her body lustful and wanting, to rip his clothes off in the heat of passion. Taking a giant leap of faith, she succumbed to her desire, forcing her lips to meet his.

Molly wound her fingers into his curls delicately. To her surprise he didn't pull back only deepened the kiss, their tongues dancing. Sherlock was rough, biting lightly at her lips, in a teasing manner. _Dirty boy._ His hands roamed her lower back, dipping under her shirt, shuddering at the hot flesh. Moving from her lips he sucked at her neck, marking her.

Molly amerced herself into the kiss, only motivated more by the hardening of something beneath the layers of clothing. _So Sherlock does have a sexual appetite. _She acknowledged.

Eagar to get started she tugged desperately at his belt. Pulling away for a second, her lips flushed and red. When a cool hand gently stopped her actions.

"Molly" Sherlock's voice sounded, lower than before. Bringing her face up to meet his, he licked his lips hungrily. "Your mine" He smirked, his words possessive and _scary_. And for the first time tonight Molly shuddered in freight.

**Well tell me what your think? :) and I haven't yet written the next chapter, so if you tell me a few of your ideas they may be used (squeals in excitement) tell me what you want to see! Please please please review! **


	17. Chapter 17

**Again another long wait, maybe I should stop making promises :/ opps! Haha…Anyway the long awaited chapter 17…**

Chapter 17

You know that old saying. Once you go dead, no one's better in bed. – Cat"  
>— Jeaniene Frost (One Foot in the Grave)<p>

Sherlock's grip tightened around her shoulders, his bloodlust finally overpowering him. Molly gasped in surprise. Hearing this sudden intake of breath, his heart pounded faster. _Would she run? Thrash? Beg? Scream? _He mused. _They always scream. _His face broke out into a smirk, as he sniffed her hair. _That's best part. _

…

There was a constant ringing sounding in his ears, making it almost impossible to hear anything. Anything but her steadily beating heart. He relished it. Knowing that if he took what he wanted, it would beat no more. He gulped, his mouth dry, and throbbing. He reminded himself of the way she had begged him to stay, pleading, clinging onto his coat as if it was her life line. _Humans. _

He was close to slapping her hand away, but then she had muttered those infernal words. 'I feel so alone' Oh he had been alone. All his childhood shunned for being different, looking into her tear-filled eyes, he had crumbled, and quickly agreed. _Damn you Molly Hooper_. The irony was laughable, asking a creature that could kill you, to protect you.

He unconsciously chewed on his lower lip, trying to control his visibly shaking hands. He could barely keep his eyes open, the couch looking hugely welcoming. Knowing his once handsome physique was slowly becoming that of a dead person, it was only a matter of time before the skin would begin to rot. _Maybe I could sneak away. Today. This is a promise I can't keep._

Suddenly the lulling heart of Molly Hooper had picked up speed. She coughed. The sudden interruption causing him to instinctively inhale. A wave of smells overcame him. The toast Molly had burnt earlier this morning, and unceremoniously dumped in the bin. Toby. _Eck! Why does she keep that animal around? _His lip curled in disgust. Then another smell distinguishable above all the others, Molly.

…

"Sherlock" She murmured. He bathed in her scent, her release of sexual endorphins, sent his thoughts hazy. He could feel the constriction hidden within his pants. Blood and death, two things that vampires craved, and he had felt to euphoria of both, but like a human they also seek sex, an instinct that Sherlock had long tried to contain.

Locking onto her flushed lips once more, he ground up against her. To which she moaned in his ear. Grasping her hips, with a growl, he pushed her fiercely up against the wall. Her hands tugged violently at his hair, their tongues dancing. Looking into her eyes, her pupils were heavily dilated, blossoming with arousal, but also portraying fear. His arousal deepened, lust and _hunger_. Tonight she would know what true fear is.

Wasting no time he ripped open the pink cardigan, revealing the black bra beneath. He toyed briefly with the clasp, a fleeting thought saying that Molly wouldn't appreciate it broken. Teasingly he licked the sweat from her glistening chest, enjoying the way she squirmed.

When without warning she pushed him away. His mind buzzed with anger. _How dare she?_ Preparing himself to dive in again, he was never one to take rejection well_, I can be very persuasive_, his eyes savouring her rounded pert nipples. His thoughts however suddenly halted, when she pulled down his trouser s, reached downward, and caressed him.

He squeezed his eyes shut as his emotions rocketed.

…

She couldn't convince herself that this was actually happening, she rubbed his length feverishly, her whole body sweltering with heat, contrasting with his cold skin. She was wet and waiting. Pulling her hands free from his underwear, he again pushed her flush against the wall. He growled, nuzzling into her neck, his finger nails digging viciously into her hips. Yanking hard on her trousers, pulling them around her ankles, followed by her underwear.

With little effort he lifted her slightly off of the floor, putting her legs around him to regain her balance, she waited in anticipation. He neared her heat, his swollen head barely penetrating.

She gasped as he pushed deep into her. Thrusting repeatedly, while she moaned blissfully. Her head cracking against the wall behind them, causing stars to float around her vision. _Pain and pleasure_, _was that the expression?_

…

Sherlock pumped into her, aggressively thinking that he could fuck her through the wall. _Something is missing_. His fast thinking mind coming to a quick conclusion. His eyes darkened at the thought, the white becoming black. Hid fangs extending instantaneously. Without a second's hesitation he bit down hard onto her shoulder eliciting a muffled scream from Molly. The animal released. _Blood_

**Hope that was alright, please tell me what you think! This is my first sex scene, and I hope I did it justice **** I will update soon!**


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